SO this is from like a week ago when I was working on a new floorwork routine (hence the legwarmers and the low camera angle). I’m working on finishing my freestyles instead of stopping every time I mess up (or when my leg warmers fall down), so I kept rolling. Smooth, right? đ
Moral of the story: KEEP DANCING. Earlier in this video I snagged one of of my warmers on the floorboard, but I went with it, and when I went back to watch the vid, It totally looks like a purposeful, sexy pause. I would have hated myself if I stopped over something so small!
oh and here’s the floor work routine I was practicing (but didn’t bother posting before because it’s sooooo dark). Hard stuff, but when our instructor did it I got literal goosebumps. So imma keep pluggin!
My dad has been in the hospital for about a week and a half now.
Yeah, you read that right.
Not even 2 months after my momâs random kidney infection, my dad suddenly has become very ill and had to have major digestive surgery (re: they took part of his fucking intestine out. Iâm not kidding. They were just like âfuck that one part of his intestine in particularâ and tossed it in a biohazard bag. I mean, it probably didnât happen exactly like that, but you get the idea.)
Iâm having a hard time processing this because, my family⌠we are not âsickâ people. My dad has NEVER been in the hospital, except for one time when he had foot surgery, and though he had to wear an intense looking boot, it was kind of a different thing. Same with my mom, the exception to hospital visits being delivering babies. Which has nothing to do with being sick, just living in the 21st century, which is generally considered a positive thing.
You guys know my dad. He’s a pretty cool guy.
Anyway, my dad was supposed to be getting better, but now heâs in pain again and running a fever, and my momâs out of sick time to stay at the hospital with him and I JUST WANT TO KICK THINGS AND CRY LIKE A THREE YEAR OLD AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGGGGH.
Aside from being shaking up by the sudden reality of my parents’ mortal-ness, all this sickness and fright has also made it impossible for me to sleep normally.
Obvi my emotional thermostat tips towards âanxiousâ anyway, but now Iâm honestly, literally afraid to sleep. Both of my parents woke up at 4am, doubled over in extreme pain, with no prior warning. Naturally, because I am self-involved, that makes me imagine all the ways Iâd be screwed if that happened to me. At least my parents could take care of each other, I guess. But meâŚÂ Iâm going to have to crawl my ass down four flights of stairs whilst my moaning from the hallway would prompt my neighbors to call the cops because this is New York City and LOL of course I donât know my neighbors. So clearly I need to stay awake forever.
(Yes, I know Iâm being irrational, but you try explaining that to my brain in the dark. Itâs just a flight simulator where things blow up, on a loop, all the time.)
Anyway, because Iâm not sleeping, I thought Iâd try doing the only thing that makes random, horrifying life events seem to make sense: tell stories!
This is not going to be about pole dancing, but it is a spooky lady event that most people wouldnât talk about, so I guess it fits in well here.
A few years ago, I was taking a writing class (shut up) and our first assignment was a âhumiliation essay.â Basically, our instructor Sue (shout-out, hey Sue Shapiro, youâre amazing and helped me get in XO Jane!) was asking us to write about one of the most humiliating things that ever happened to us.
I wrote it all out and brought it to class, and then did nothing with it, because it really was humiliating. So this is CLASSIFIEDâŚ. (I say as I put it on the internet). Brace yourself.
âââââ
Ahem.
âââââ
So, this one time I got a urinary tract infection.
A UTI, as they are lovingly known.
These things are totally not a big deal⌠I thought.
Which it turns out is not true. Theyâre only not a big deal if you have a doctor and health insurance. One round of antibiotics will knock that sucker out. Cranberry juice, on the other hand, will do jack shit.
Of course, at age 22, having just moved to New York and literally on my first week of a new job before my benefits kicked in, I didnât know any of this, and I did not have a doctor or health insurance. I also did not have a smartphone.
Which is why, when I finally realized at about 8pm on a week night that cranberry juice will NOT stop you from peeing blood, I got very lost looking for an urgent care center. The primitive 2008 version of Google Maps I had on my Acer at the time had failed to alert me that the nearest one (which was actually quite far) had closed, and of course I didnât discover this until my gypsy cab sped off. It left me on a DESERTED section of Flatbush avenue, in front of a lot of closed businessâ(the urgent care center being one of them, taunting me) with a dead phone.
Oh, and this is also the part where I realized that I was rapidly losing any control over my bladder.
I ran around looking for cabs (there were none, lol this is BROOKLYN Brooklyn, not Prospect Park) then dashed into a diner to use the bathroom. Horrible ideaâblood, pain, crying, humiliation and generally escalating desperation ensued. I left a tip for the water I didnât drink (I think I was hoping karma would save me?) and ran into the street, officially panicking. Thatâs when I saw a bus.
I got on the bus and I think I THOUGHT I was being casual when I asked the driver âWhereâs the nearest hospital?â but, since the guy actually drove off his route and dropped me directly at Beth Israel, I guess I didnât play it as cool as I was hoping.
Long story short, I got 10 dollars worth of antibiotics, some delicious pain killers, and an $850 ER bill (but no T-shirt, which was disappointing).
Hereâs the most traumatic part of all of it, though: getting back to my apartment at 3am, sweaty, gritty, shaking, tear-stained, and general Never The Same Person Ever Again, it came to my attention that nobody gave a shit. The two people I was rooming with were both awake in the living room, and I donât think they even said hi. I emailed my boss before bed and woke up to a message not expressing any concern for why I might have been in the hospital, but instead asking was I not going to be in the next day? Because if so, that would be a problem and Iâd need to notify her immediately.
Welcome to New York, kids. So thatâs the day I grew up and realized that the world owes you nothing, and you need to be prepared for anything. And also that cranberry juice is bullshit.
That was 5 years ago, and I still have a stockpile of leftover amoxicillin (ear infection, 2010) in my medicine cabinet juuuuuuuuuuust in case, which makes the moral of the storyâŚ. I have no fucking idea, actually, LOL, life is hilarious?
So tell me⌠if you had to write a âhumiliation essayâ what would it be about?
How do you turn off your brain when itâs running Worry2.0?
It’s that time again!!! AÂ time when a movie that I added to my Netflix queue months ago (okay, more than a YEAR) ago, has finally arrived at my doorstep–long after I remember why I wanted to see it in the first place.
Yesterday, after several minutes of head scratching, I realized that I put Closer (which should be called “The Blower’s Daughter” due to serious abuse of that Damien Rice song) on my “must watch” list almost two years ago because I thought there would be some pole dancing in it. And I LOVES me some pole dance in mainstream movies. Even if I have to watch Lindsay Lohan act to get it.
So I guess what happened was, a lot of white boys wanted to see Natalie Portman’s ass, because I didn’t get this movie for a very long time. And though her ass was indeed formidable, Natalie’s pole debut left a bit to be desired (mainly in screen time).
Here we go:
MOVIES WITH POLE: VOLUME 2
Film:Â Closer
Star:Â Natalie Portman
Overall Movie Quality:Â You will probably find this movie very deep and intriguing, if you are a white man. If you are a woman, you may wonder why the female characters are thinly sketched objects almost entirely defined by their level of possession by the undesirable creeps that the plot centers around. (<end feminist rant>).
I would basically sum this film up as a catalog of pointless, first-world, self-created emotional pain that had me yelling WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO NATALIE PORTMAN, JUDE LAW at my laptop. Julia Roberts is drop dead though. Truth.
BAM. Points for flexibility, NP!
Dance Skills: (Out of 10): For the Famous Miss Portman, a 7 for pole technique, and a 4 for sensual movement. I’m going to be honest with you, there’s very small ratio of “pole time” to “Natalie Portman in a thong” time in this movie, which saddened me. (I’m probably the only person who had that reaction). She looked a little fast on the walk/transitions, but executed a clean back hook spin and a lovely half pirouette in her very limited pole time. Which was exactly all they showed. MOAR, Closer, I WANT MOAR.
Highlights:Â One of the background dancers does an inverted crucifix while another chick gracefully (but uncreatively) choppers and then… just… comes back down out of it. Womp womp. Oh, but Natalie Portman does something damn near close to a center split. Get it girl.
Lowlights:Â Natalie’s “dancing” scenes don’t involve much dancing, in lieu of walking around and bending over. Which is disappointing, because judging by her perfect technique on the spin/pirouette, she can CLEARLY be taught to pole.
Reality check:Â No breaches of reality here–the pole setups and costumes all seem to allow for proper poling. I do have a questions about whether a stripper can just flat out display her labia in a club, but, that’s a whole ‘nother issue, and not my area of expertise.
So how much of this was editing?:Â The movie does a lot of close ups on Natalie’s face for the dancing, then only gives us a full body angle for a single spin (the back hook)–which tells me she didn’t get much in the way of transition/floorwork instruction. Seeing as she learned fucking BALLET for Black Swan, I’m very disappointed in the wasted potential here. I think she would be an epic pole dancer.
My takeaway: I’m very curious about what Natalie’s full routine looked like before it was edited for the film. I did a little digging and found that a UK-based dancer and choreographer, Dana Mayer, choreo’d and taught her the routine, which was a month long process. Natalie had this to say about learning to pole in an interview with contactmusic.com (a UK-based site whose reputability I’m not entirely sure of): “It was much, much more difficult than I expected. It was really, really intense. It takes a lot of upper body strength. You just watch it and it’s so sexy and you forget about all the strength and skill it takes.”
Yay! If you actually said that Natalie, thanks for the props!
Did you guys see this movie? Want to weigh in? Have any suggestions for movies to add to my queue? I think next stop on this tour is going to be The Bling Ring, because it’s already at my house.
OH, one final takeaway from this film, polewise: this grunge-lite song, which plays during NP’s first scene in the club. It is soundly dope. Enjoy!
When I am in student mode, I am eager–nay, DESPERATE–to have my instructor’s approval.
In my eyes, instructors are goddesses full of infinite knowledge, who can bestow upon me a priceless nugget of information if only I prove myself worthy enough (“You need to rotate your legs INWARD in a thigh hold”<—–WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS GENIUS, THANK YOU SHAINA)
… which is why I get really fucking irritated when I see my fellow students doing Oblivious, Obnoxious Shit that undermines the instructor’s class.
Having been on both the instructor and student sides of the fence, I cringe as people perform random acts of OOS because I know exactly how Oblivious and Obnoxious it is to the person trying to teach your ass something that you don’t seem particularly interested in learning. Oh, you just want to practice that thing you already know on your favorite side again? Okay, sure. Do that. I’ll just wait over here.
RAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR.
Okay, so, from both a teacher’s and a student’s perspective, here’s how to effectively poke the instructor bear, if you really must:
1. Flip upside down every time your teacher’s back is turned
Oy vey. You don’t do this, do you? Listen, it’s great that you can go upside and you’re only a level one, but, chances are, 1. you’re not doing it right (like the girl I witnessed in my last class who inverted into a crucifix with BOTH FEET IN FRONT OF THE POLE WHAT STAHP) and 2. if you bust your ass, you could get your teacher in trouble, because she’s not supposed to let you go upside down without a spot in level 1.
A teacher is not just responsible for teaching you, she’s also in charge of your safety while you’re in her class. If you wait until your instructor’s back is turned to do something dumb, not only are you setting an example of chaos for the rest of the students, you’re endangering yourself AND your instructor’s job/reputation/peace of mind. Poo on you!!!
2. Try that thing you’re supposed to be practicing once … and then switch off to that thing you already know how to do
Again, this is a really demoralizing example to set for the rest of the class. You’re basically showing everyone that you think your instructor’s lesson plan is optional, and/or that you’re too good for what you’re learning.
But real talk: is a new move too easy for you? Practice fun ways to get in or out of the move, or make up a variation (one handed, extended leg, to the floor vs. to your feet), add some floor work, build a combo, etc. And of course, work on your bad side! This should definitely keep you busy until the next part of the lesson. Is a move too hard? Talk to your teacher! He or she can help you pinpoint the problem or give you a variation–and I promise you, they’ll be happy to do it. Much happier than if they catch you blatantly doing something they didn’t teach you during your practice time.
3. Whine/give up/catch an attitude
This one… we’re all guilty of. And instructors understand, because we know the feeling. Sometimes you just hit a wall and that is SO frustrating. But, if you go to that dark place where you just don’t want to try anymore, we can’t help you. And that’s class money and instructor time wasted–for YOU. Which, from a teacher perspective, we feel really bad about. Help us help YOU.
Of course, step one to not being a pain in the ass is to try talking to your teacher. He or she can help you figure out what the problem is. Better yet, before just blurting out “I can’t,” try clarifying for yourself where the sticky spot. Is it the aerial invert part of the combo that’s too tough? Is your hand is getting stuck behind your knee on the outside leg hold? The more specific the issue, the better you equip your instructor to give you helpful feedback, or to modify the move so you can do it. Remember, just because you didn’t nail a move in a single class doesn’t mean you haven’t made a gain. And your instructor will be SO happy to keep helping you if you just keep putting in the effort.
So that’s the end of my rant. Teachers, anything your students do that drives you up the wall? Students, anything you wish teachers would do better? Pobody’s nerfect…
Okay, so, I was learning this routine in a pole choreo class that was… to be frank, way the hell outta my comfort zone.
It was what I would categorize as modern… ish, maybe with some hip hop influences (guessing here because these are both forms of dance I have never taken classes in). The shapes were angular and purposefully a little awkward, baby-giraffe style. The movements were jerky and syncopated. There were BENT ELBOWS, you guys. That’s a serious shock to my inner belly dancer. Actually I’m hearing my teacher schreech “SOFT ELBOWS” right now. You mean, you bend your elbows on purpose? I don’t understand?
So anyway, I tried my usual tricks to make things look pretty (graceful, light arms, sweeping limbs), but, with the sharp choreography, I just looked sluggish.
At one point during class, still not looking like the instructor no matter how hard I tried, I began to channel my rage at an innocent blonde dancer who was dancing her heart out at the front of the class. She was whipping her hair around and throwing elbows and wrenching her back, and I was just overwhelmed by the need to punch her in the face.
Listen, I’m a bad person, I know.
But, right in the face. That’s real.
Anyway, I thought about the routine for a long time after class. The steps were so foreign to me (and I sucked so thoroughly at them) that I became obsessed with cracking the code. Why does that look cool and purposeful when the instructor does it, and why does it just look like a confused, hot mess on me?
I searched our song to see if someone posted our choreo (with the terms “Dark Horse,” (the song by Katy Perry) and “pole”) and here’s what I got:
Okay, so, first impression: oh yeah, that is not my class.
Second impression: MEEEEHHHHHHHHHHH.
Not to disparage the dancers–this is very well danced! This is standard pole choero too, I guess.
But… this is everything I already know. Hip pops? Hair whips? Yeah, I’m bored with this.
So that’s when the light bulb went off: I really want to do something fresh.
And that’s only going happen if I try things that feel uncomfortable.
I’m going to have to push through my resistance to learning new things. Because that’s what it comes down to, right? WHY AM I NOT INSTANTLY GOOD AT THIS, RABBLE RABBLE, I HATE IT!!!11!!!
I’ve made a point of going back to that teacher’s class, same time every. She’s got shit to teach me. I wanna learn.
Anyway, here’ s a video one of our classmates took (on the night I cried on the way to class btw, SO META) of a new routine, (post “Dark Horse.”) It’s ROUGH and a little awkward looking, but, hey, it’s a Brand New Style, mang! I’m digging it.
I got a question regarding getting more spin and I’m on my lunch break, so super super quick, here are my five tips for getting more spin out of your… spins. (I’m writing this too quickly to be a wordsmith, LEAVE ME ALONE).
Note: these are all tips for a STATIC POLE, though most of the momentum rules (long and short levers and sweeps) apply to spin too.
1. Lengthen your levers
As in, extend your arms and legs as you “fall” into a spin. The greater the weight you put into your fall/kick off motion, the faster and longer the spin.
2. …and then shorten them
As soon as you kick off the momentum, you’re going to want to pull your arms and legs in. Picture a figure skater–you know how they start a spin with their arms out and then cross them over their chests until they speed up into a tornado-like blur? That’s what you’re going for.
3. Work your walk
You never want to jump into a spin, but a good, strong three-step walk into a leg sweep (always on the outer leg, unless you’re doing an inside hook, ex: a Front Hook spin) will add some power to your “fall.”
4. Lean out
Again, the more weight you have to throw into your spin, the better. If you pull your hips away from the pole, you’re adding to your “kick off” weight as you fall. More good news: a nice saunter/lean combo looks super sexy and effortless. Just keep your head up to avoid looking like you’ve had an attack of narcolepsy.
5. Tighten your core
Good form (abs in, chest up, eyes forward) will help you stay “up” as long as possible while spinning. Sloppy form (forgetting to engage your shoulders–ie. The Dead Hang, looking down, hunching your back/core/chest) will drag you down, literally.
6. Watch the grip aid
While it’s important to have grip (never spin on sweaty hands), an overdose on Dry Hands is a sure-fire spin killer. So is too much squeezing from body parts other than your hands (like a behind the knee catch on a Back Hook or ankle grab on a Fireman). If you find your spins coming to a dead stop in mid-air, do a quick check-in with your contact points and make sure you’re keeping things light.
That’s all for now–hope this helped! And if you have any spin tips or tricks, please feel free to share them below.
DISCLAIMER: I am a resident of New York City, which I think is one of the only cities in the United States that does not have a country radio station.
I am not a fan of country (mostly).
I am also not a fan of guns, pick-up trucks, large dogs, casual references to Jesus, etc, that many country songs contain. Though I do enjoy whiskey.
That said… I kind of like Miranda Lambert.
AM I HAVING AN IDENTITY CRISIS. Anyway, I was really, really tired of the hip hop, and while coding yesterday (yes, still doing that project, IT SHALL LAST FOREVER), I switched over to country music on Pandora.
And I.. I didn’t hate some of it.
(Except for Luke Bryan. He is everything I hate about country music poured into a person mold. And Rascall Flatts should just entitle all of their songs “This Is a List of Similes”)
Anyway, I got to thinking about pole (which I do it every 7 seconds, like men with sex), and started jotting down the name and band every time I heard a might-work-for-pole track.
Here’s what I came up with. You might totally hate it. Or it might make you think about your pole game in a different way and be totally refreshing!
1. I Feel a Sin Coming On, Pistol Annies
Miranda Lambert is in Pistol Annies. Did I mention that I love her?! I f***ing love her. You’re my spirit animal, ML!
2. Blowin’ Smoke, Kacey Musgraves
Okay I’m seeing a pattern in my country musics tastes: sassy women!
3. Undo It, Carrie Underwood
I know that feel, Carrie. Also, any relation to Frank? (soooooo much House of Cards).
4. Downtown, Lady Antebellum
I remember reading that Antebellum means “before the war,” and that a lot of country music celebrates that time (during which slavery was a thing), and that that’s kind of racist. Lady Antebellum got some crap for this. Anyway, I like this song. (This is becoming stream of consciousness because I’m exhausted).
6. Done, The Band Perry
I LOVE THE SHIT OUT OF THIS SONG. Kimberly Perry is so damn sassy. Bless her heart. (Not the correct usage?)
Okay that’s my list. Are you guys ready to disown me for these selections? Or do MOST people really like country music and I’m just in this geographical bubble so I don’t realize it?
There’s nothing serious going on, just a rough project at work involving a skill that feels obtuse and unwieldy to me, and makes me feel like a helpless idiot. Which, PS, is the easiest way to make me cry. (The repressed memories of trying to learn fractions is flooding back. Â Sobbing over my math homework at the dining room table… ugh).
I mean, I know a little HTML (just as I would say I know a little french), but this project, in which I must code, is akin to being given a book in French and instructed to only choose only very specific excerpts of it (in French) and replace them with other very specific excerpts in (French), which I can only do by consulting my French-to-English dictionary every 15 seconds while trying not to forget what I was doing. And also, if I mess up a single backslash, the book doesn’t work, and the whole thing becomes a sidebar. In German.
There’s really not point to telling you any of this, except for the following takeaways–and kind of as response to Kim’s piece about pushing yourself to the point of throwing up, which I have never done because EWWWWW WHYYYYY:
1. It’s good to practice commitment.
Commitment means sometimes doing things you don’t feel like doing, or despite a poor physical or emotional state. I don’t recommend working out when you’re sick, or even ignoring your feelings; I definitely adjusted expectations for my performance in class, because I knew I was feeling crappy. But I went to class. And I ended up having a blast. (But even if I didn’t, I would still tell you to go, because polers pole. They pole, because that’s what they do. Poling for a poler is not a special occasion thing, or something to be done only when you’re in a great mood).
2. Taking it easy can be more effective, motivation-wise, than believing you have to always kill yourself
So sometimes you have to negotiate with yourself. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, I don’t feeeeeel like it”<——says your brain. This is when you have to put on your executive branch hat and start bribing (I’ve been watching House of Cards, can you tell?). What needs to be done for poling to happen?
For me yesterday, I needed to leave work a few minutes early, take a long walk, and call my dad and cry. I also permitted myself a large Powerade, and told myself I just had to get THROUGH the class–I didn’t have to necessarily achieve anything.
3. ….because once you start, you’ll probably go hard anyway
10 minutes into class I was like LOL I love this, why was I going to skip? WHEEE.
4. Classes are expensive, which can weirdly be a good thing
I mean, if the class had cost 5 bucks, I probably would have wussed out and gone home. But 1.5 hour classes at my studio are $40 a pop. Granted, I blew my last paycheck on a package so it’s a bit less, but, it still would have been a substantial loss. Cheapness: the great motivator.
5. Going to your damn class can actually be a form of self care
I was probably just going to go home and heat up frozen french fries for dinner because WAAAAH, it’s hard to do life.
Instead, through making the simple decision to JUST GO TO MY DAMN CLASS, I got some exercise, learned a new routine, socialized/laughed/smiled, and had a lovely stretch. The difference in outcomes would have been something like “becoming a crumpled ball of carb-induced depression” vs. “feeling like a person, and, oh snap, a grown up, even though it was a bad day.” It’s a good feeling. It sets the ball rolling on all kinds of other positive life choices.
SO ANYWAY.
What do you guys do on off days? Where do you draw the line on allowing yourself to skip a class? Have you ever pushed yourself to the point of throwing up while working out?
Funny story–I once was considering going to a flexibility class that was a bit late on a Friday night. To kill time after work, I went to happy hour with a couple of colleagues, still not sure whether I would actually go or not (I hadn’t signed up). Two beers in, I decided that, with a little over an hour before the class would start, damn it, I was going to that class! Hooray for alcohol-induced resolve.
I made it through about 45 minutes (of a hellish 1.5 hours) before an extended downward dog sequence had me feel seriously green. I ducked out of class for a few minutes until I felt better. And yeah, happy ending, I did feel better: I ended up going back in and finishing…. but not before reading–WITH INTENSE SHAME–a sign on the door that explicitly said, “NO ALCOHOL BEFORE CLASS.”
Whoops.
Yeah, that was the last time I ever did that. I was nowhere near drunk that day, but having experienced the dehydrated and general woozy feelings, I can safely say that having any alcohol flowing through your veins for exercise is a terrible idea. It also feels very unpleasant. Just saying.
I made the scrub and put it in Mason Jars because I live in Brooklyn.
Alright, we’re in the home stretch of winter, and thank god because it is kiiiiiiiilling me. I’ve been poling more often than ever, hitting the studio on the way home from work several days a week. But, sadly, that means a shower with no lotion in the mornings.
Which sounds like 1st world problems, but when you’re stretching, and you can literally feel the skin on your sides breaking… it’s bad news bears.
Luckily, I just remembered BODY SCRUB.
I made a batch with this totes awes recipe from the Idea  Room to go with my Christmas presents this year (see picture to the right), and it finally occurred to me to make some for myself.
Guys, game changer. The scrub sloughs off the dry spots so the oil can really soak in, and then most of the oil itself goes safely down the drain. Unlike lotion, any residual oil really doesn’t come out of your pores when you sweat at a class, so it’s compatible for dance days. If you’re nervous, try it the night before, but it’s been fine for me so far.
I got kind of fancy and made stripes of blue and white scrub for my Christmas presents, but really, you can be basic here–just sugar and oil, of any kind, if you like. You kind of can’t screw this up. That said, making it to the letter is divine.
The Spin Diaries: Your Guide to Everything Pole and Aerial 